Chapter 2
“MISS CROWE, your boyfriend has already checked in. You’re in cabin two, which has a fine view of the lake. I’ll get someone to bring your bags down,” said the man behind the desk inside a small hut that made for a lobby to Bell Wood Park on Assembly Point.
“I can take my bag, and can I park my motorcycle down by the cabin?” Isidore swallowed her thumping heart and brushed her sweaty palm over her jeans. She still had no idea if she would go with crazy-ass-get-herself-killed plan, or insane plan and do what she was told.
The man nodded as he pushed a key across the counter along with a map of the lodging area.
“And is it a two-bedroom?”
By the man’s arched brow, she figured that was not the question a lover asked.
“Was it supposed to be? Because I could move you.”
“No. No. I was just making sure,” she said, shoving the key in her back pocket, before glancing quickly at the small handwritten map. “Thanks a lot.”
Tucking her helmet under her arm, she pushed open the screen door, stepping into cold New York air. Pretty stupid to drive her motorcycle in April across the State of New York. It generally didn’t snow this time of year, but it could be below freezing and right now the temperatures barely hit forty.
She strapped her helmet on the back of her bike as a couple of wolves strolled by, sniffing in her direction. The only reason she knew for sure they were wolves was because they wore T-shirts and their pack tattoos peeked out from under their sleeves. She shivered, wishing her body temperature ran hot in this chilly afternoon.
Nodding, she kicked the starter, revving the engine, and made her way down a small dirt road until she found the back side of the cabin. The parking spot was half taken up with a fancy Harley.
Score one point to the wolf.
A cold breeze kicked up, sending a sharp shiver down her spine. While the bright sun beaded down on the blue lake, she figured she’d turn into an ice cube if she opted to take a swim. She flung her backpack over her shoulder and walked across the pavement, cracked from a harsh winter. Dead unraked leaves from the season before crunched under her boots.
The burden of death hung over her head like a dark cloud. If she failed her mission, her sister would die, or maybe worse. A few months ago, Isidore had watched some weird human science fiction show about a man who had to kill a friend in order to save his children. The man did commit murder, but he’d never been the same and, in the end, he’d hung himself.
She clutched her neck, laying her hand over the soft flesh where her pulse beat wildly out of control.
As she rounded the corner of the porch, she came to a quick stop and gasped. A large, no, a massive white wolf with paws the size of dinner plates stood at the base of the steps. The top of his head came to her chin and at five-foot-six inches, that made for one big fucking wolf.
“Um, hello,” she said with a wave of her hand. “If you can understand me, I’m Isidore. My date is inside that cabin.” She pointed with a shaky finger, which just pissed her off. Granted, any wolf up close was intimidating, but she was a warrior witch, and trained to take out the most formidable enemy.
The only enemy she wanted to destroy was her father.
The wolf sat, staring at her with russet-colored eyes. His gaze traveled over her from head to toe, then he tilted his head. His shaggy white fur fluffed in the wind.
“All righty, well, I’m just going to go inside,” she said with a soft, but sweet voice. Her mother would have been proud. She almost sounded like a polite female over a smart mouth with a chip on her shoulder. Inching forward, careful not to make any sudden movements, she took three steps toward the porch.
The wolf stood, blocking her way, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed.
“Yes. I know I’m a witch,” she muttered, assuming that was what he was turning his nose up at. “But I can’t smell that bad.”
The wolf let out a growl noise, that sound more like a snicker.
“Do you mind? I’m meeting someone.” She reached her hand out, fingers itching to thread through his thick-looking fur. Fear should be prickling her senses, only the excitement of curiosity flowed through her veins. She’d been raised that wolves were not to be trusted. That one day, they would bring the Royal Fairies back into this world, threatening the witch’s way of life.
Isidore believed no such nonsense. Every chance she’d gotten over the years, she’d studied the long history of the growing hatred between her species and fairies. Witches practiced a craft that could be honed, but each witch, wizard, and warlock possessed different talents. A different specialty. Fairies were all created equal. But what seemed to scare witches the most, was that they were seen more as energy than a creature. Some witches believed that fairies had taken on the image of a human and could easily vaporize into something else, like a bee, or a swan, or even an inanimate object, like a flower.
And if they could, more power to them. A shape shifter with the power to make things happen. How could this not be seen as a good thing?
She tried to side-step the beast, but the animal moved with her and if she didn’t know better, she would have thought he smiled as he lowered his head, pressing it between her arm and stomach.
“Are you seriously looking to be petted? My boyfriend is right inside. I don’t think he’d take too kindly to me flirting with another wolf.”
The mongrel licked her hand, before turning and running up the stairs. He raised his paw in front of the door, and it opened.
“What the fuck?” she muttered. Wolves didn’t move objects. Witches did. Fairies did. But not his kind.
He jerked his head.
Tentatively, she followed him into the cabin, where he disappeared into a room, slamming the door shut with his nose.
Shit.
She tossed her backpack on the floor near the opening to the kitchen and plopped down on the sofa, staring at an opened bottle of wine and two glasses on a tray on the coffee table along with some cheese, crackers, grapes, and nuts. She reached over, snagging a handful of the salted peanuts.
Every few seconds, she checked her watch. Four minutes before the door screeched open. Longest fucking four minutes of her life.
“Hi, Isidore,” a tall man with dark hair and a thick five o’clock shadow said. His biceps bulged in his white T-shirt, which pulled tight around his chest and stomach, showing off all his muscle definition. “I’m the boyfriend, Nico.”
She waggled her finger in the air before adjusting her jet-black hair, which had been tumbling out of her clip. “Not yet, you aren’t, and that was not fair.”
“But it was fun.” He sauntered across the room in his bare feet. His jeans were loose around his hips.
“For you, maybe. I’ve never seen a wolf that size before.”
“You didn’t appear scared at all.” He sat down on the couch next to her, holding out his hand. “Nor did I smell it on you.”
She took his hand in a firm shake. “Your sniffer must be off because this entire situation terrifies me.”
“Then you hide it well.” He tossed his arm over the back of the cushion, staring at her with those rich, muddy eyes. His hair flipped down over his forehead and hung about an inch past his collar. The only thing Gerri had told her was that he was a detective for the Twilight Crossing and was the perfect match.
“How old are you?” he asked in a serious tone with his one eyebrow lowered.
“Twenty-one. Why?”
“I don’t know why I was expecting someone in their late twenties, not that it matters,” he said, his finger twisting a strand of her hair.
“You don’t look to be much older than me,” she nearly whispered, mesmerized by the way he held her stare. “I’m guessing, twenty-five, though that would make for a young detective.”
“Twenty-nine, so thanks for the complement.” His smile showed off a set of high cheekbones and made his dark eyes swarm like melting chocolate. Raw sexuality oozed from his pores.
He reminded her a little of every bad boy she’d brought home just to piss off her father. While there was something insanely wild about Nico, there was also something calming. Sweet.
At least she didn’t have to kill him.
Only his sister-in-law and her babies.
Bile rose, and her mouth tasted like vomit. She swallowed, hard, pushing those thoughts out of her mind.
She glanced around the cabin. A lot nicer than she expected even if the furniture was dated. No, she’d have to call it retro. The dining room table had a fake Formica-looking, natural-colored top. The chairs were covered with white vinyl, and the plate and mug were that two-tone white and blue right out of a nineteen fifties movie.
“Let’s have some wine and get to know one another.” He reached for the bottle.
Wine hadn’t ever been her drink of choice. She much preferred a shot of Tequila, or good bourbon on the rocks.
“You don’t like wine?” he asked, holding out the glass.
“What makes you think that?” The red liquid hugged the sides as he swirled it.
“You made a face like this.” He scrunched up his nose.
She laughed. “It’s not my first choice, but I’m good with it, and this way I won’t get smashed on our first date.”
“Good to know.”
The red wine tasted better than the cheap shit her father kept around the house, so she was pleasantly surprised that it flowed down her throat like a smooth, creamy peanut butter.
“Tell me, why did you seek out Gerri at twenty-one? You’re a beautiful woman with years and years ahead of you. Why do you want to settle down?”
The questions made her vision blur as she set the glass down on the coffee table, swallowing a bigger gulp than she’d planned. She understood wolves found partners very differently from other species. One of the biggest mysteries in their culture was the idea that with Alpha males, higher level council members, and other leaders of the pack had fated mates. Two people destined to be together.
Witches had no such prophecies, and she knew many that had cast love spells on their significant others. Generally, that didn’t make for happy marriages. The witches she knew that had used Gerri’s services believed they’d found their perfect match. Isidore had seen that firsthand and hoped she’d find the man to help her leave.
Only Nico wasn’t that man.
“I’m planning on leaving my coven, and it’s not an easy thing to do.”
Both his brows shot up. “May I ask why?”
“You may not want to get to know me after I tell you.”
She focused on his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he took two swallows. “Let me be the judge of that.”
Part of her wanted to tell him everything. As a detective and member of the Twilight Crossing Council, it would be his duty, his obligation, to check into any allegations she made. But if her father caught wind, which he would, her sister would be dead. Had only her soulmate been anyone else other than the protector.
“Let’s just say I had a difficult childhood and now that my powers are fully developed, it’s time for me to find my own place in this world, away from what I grew up with.”
“I’ve heard witches are trained for specific roles in their coven. What’s yours?”
“Warrior,” she admitted, enjoying how his eyes widened and his lips parted at her admittance.
“A trained killer,” he said with an amused smile.
“If a coven lives by the rules of the land, there is no need. However, I saw on the news the other night about a witch hunt by a pack of rogue wolves—”
He raised his glass. “The key word there is ‘rogue’ and Twilight Crossing is doing their best to make sure nothing happens to any innocent witch or any other species.”
A long silence filled the room. He was a Ferguson, second in line to be Alpha and protector of the Wolfairy.
She was a witch. Didn’t matter from what coven, right now, all witches were under the microscope.
“Why don’t you ask me? Because I can tell you’re dying to.” When she’d gotten on her bike this morning, she had planned out two different stories she could spin about who she was and where she came from. The second she laid eyes on the wolf, she thought she might go with plan B.
Lie like a mother fucker.
But after meeting the man behind the wolf, she opted for plan A.
Tell him everything except what she really planned on doing.
“What’s the name of your coven?”
“The Unseen Moon,” she said, keeping her gaze locked on him. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move a muscle. Just stared.
“Do you believe fairies should be banished and the Wolfairy be destroyed?” He did a good job of keeping a straight face, but she could hear the tightness in his voice. “Because your coven has made it pretty clear on how they feel.”
She dropped her gaze to her lap. The shame heated her body, a reaction she didn’t think she could have faked if she were the best actress ever. “That is why I want to leave. I’ve rejected that notion ever since I can remember. I waited until my skills were formed and sealed, so that in leaving, I’d be able to protect myself.”
“And having a mate at your side would be beneficial as well.”
“We don’t mate. We fall in love, get married, but yeah, it would make the break easier for me.”
His thumb gently pressed against her chin. “We’re starting off with a fair amount of distrust here."
She tried avoiding his gaze, but he wouldn’t have it.
“I’ve been up front with you.”
“Do you know who I am? My family?” His tone turned accusatory as did the glare emulating from his bourbon eyes.
She sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Yes.”
“Does your family or anyone in your coven know where you are?” His fingers glided across her cheekbone like soft butter spreading over a piece of warm bread fresh from the oven.
“Everyone believes I’m on a fact-finding mission.” Not a total lie, in part, that’s what she was doing. “There is a potion in my backpack that will shield me from anyone homing in on my location. Five drops lasts twenty-four hours. I have one week’s supply.”
“What are you supposed to be finding, exactly?”
She swallowed the lump growing at the base of her throat, but it didn’t budge. “I’m supposed to be in Maine. Rumor has it there is a large population of Royal Fairies gathering there.” All of that was true, except where she was supposed to be. Her father hadn’t wanted her to use the potion, but it was protocol, so she did, and he had to accept that.
Hopefully.
“Won’t your people find it odd they can’t find you?”
She wanted to bat his hand away. Feeling his electric skin spark fire in her belly made her want to toss herself in his arms. If not for her sister, she’d turn on her coven this second.
But she had to save Coral, and she didn’t yet know if she could trust Nico.
“It’s to protect the rest of the coven. In this case, it’s to make sure they don’t know where I am.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” He leaned in, his full lips inches from hers.
“You don’t, but I’m telling the truth.”
“I want to believe you,” he whispered, curling his long fingers around her neck. His mouth brushed over hers in a tender, but commanding kiss. Pulling her body tight against his chest, he held her until her breath collapsed into his mouth, his tongue swirling around hers, drawing it into his mouth.
He ended the kiss, cupping the back of her head, tugging at her hair. “But my family is under attack and if I find out it’s you, I’ll kill you without thinking twice.”